The Miami Campaign

By Flavio Olcese

Book 2 of the Legendary Agent series: The Dominion, America’s top covert terrorist hunting organization, has sent a team to Miami to hunt down a dangerous terrorist cell. Now there is no stopping them. With precision and stealth, these two will bring high crime in Miami to its knees. From the beginning to the explosive end, The Miami Campaign takes you on a wild ride you don't want to miss.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Flavio Olcese
• Release date: Sep 9, 2010
• ISBN: 9781452396163

Book preview

THE

MIAMI CAMPAIGN

______________

FLAVIO OLCESE

The Miami Campaign

All Rights Reserved.

Copyright © 2008 by Flavio Olcese

Published by Flavio Olcese at Smashwords

Note: This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

*****

Chapter 1

My parents had their fatal car accident two years after my grandma died. That left me alone with grandpa. I was twelve then and grandpa just stepped up to the plate without missing a beat. I didn’t know it then, but it had been my grandmother that really brought up my mother. Grandpa had been the breadwinner. So as far as parenting went, he was no expert. I didn’t notice it though.

After the initial shock of losing my parents faded, grandpa and I built a good life for ourselves. Neither of us was any good at cooking or cleaning. We had to hire a maid to come in twice a week to help us clean. For food, we tried TV dinners for a while, but eventually got tired of those.

Grandpa had come up with a plan that we should be as friendly as possible, to as many people as we could find in hopes that they would invite us to dinner. It seemed like a logical plan to me, but then again, I was just a kid. That’s were I learned my socialization skills.

I actually came out of my shell then. Initially I was friendly for food purposes, but in time I learned to be an overall good guy. I knew all my neighbors by name. I was popular in school, not only with the jocks and cheerleaders, but also with the geeks and nerds. My teachers loved me. My friends’ parents thought I was a very polite young man. Grandpa and I got invited to dinner three or four times a week.

My grandfather was an amazing man. He told very engaging stories, and, thought I had heard them all many times, I loved hearing them time and again. He would tell me about my mother and some of the adventures he and grandma had had. He told me about WWII and the battles he had been fought in. He told me of a time when it was a privilege to serve your nation, and even more of a privilege to live in it. He instilled in me a sense of duty to my country.

Grandpa passed away in my senior year of high school, shortly after I turned eighteen. I took care of his arrangements myself. I had a color guard come out for his funeral. I was now alone in the world.

My grandfather had left me a letter along with his will. In his note, he explained about the money that my parents had left me. It wasn’t enough to last me my whole life, but combined with the sale of the house, it would pay for college and even leave me some after that.

I had talked to an accountant who told me that the more money I left in investments; the more I would have when I finally needed it. We talked about college and I told him of my interest in joining the armed forces. The accountant took care of the liquidation of the house and almost everything in it. I got a storage unit to keep the things that I wanted. The accountant would pay the monthly fees for it.

The summer after I graduated high school, I enlisted in the US Army and attended boot camp. I initially joined for four years. It would be over ten before I would be a civilian again.

I trained to become an Army Ranger, but after returning from a sixteen month overseas deployment, I went on to Special Forces training. About a year later I emerged as a weapons sergeant with the 7th Special Forces Group. Before I was assigned to my operational detachment, I attended Special Forces intelligence training school, which was supposed to be similar to the CIA training for clandestine service.

I spent the next six and a half years working with the 7th. Our main area of operation was Central America, South America and the Caribbean. I had missions all over our operational command, but mostly in Columbia, Panama, Ecuador and Guatemala. I had also been sent to the Middle East several times on missions.

When I was about to turn 29 years old, I realized that grandpa had eventually left the service and found a life on the outside. I called my accountant to find out how much money I had. My investments, combined with my savings from my military service, had ballooned up to about half a million dollars. I left the Army with no regrets.

Life as a civilian had been a lot harder than I had anticipated. I was very nervous about loud noises. I felt uncomfortable without a weapon. I had relied on my operational detachment for so long, that I felt lost without them. I contemplated returning to the service. Instead I went to see a shrink at the Veteran’s Administration. He suggested I go to college. I started attending community college just to get my feet wet.

Getting a job was another matter. I really didn’t have any marketable skills. Most of the jobs I could get were in telemarketing and I just wasn’t interested in doing that. Since my finances were stable, I didn’t need to get a job. I just needed something to fill my time.

I tried to remember what my grandpa had taught me instead of what the Army had force fed me. Be nice to everybody. With that attitude I got a few friends my age at the college. They knew I had just come out of the Army, but beyond my rank of Master Sergeant, they didn’t really know what I had done.

During lunch one day, one of my friends mentioned that he had read that a single Special Forces soldier kills more people in a year than a whole small sized gang in Los Angeles. I didn’t know about that, since I had never been in a gang. I did have over 400 confirmed kills though, which turned out to be an average of a little over 5 kills per month during my active time with the 7th.

Towards the end of my first semester I got a call from a large company that wanted to interview me for a field agent position. I gladly took the interview.

On a Thursday afternoon I put on my suit and went to meet with Mr. Cooper, who would be interviewing me. When I entered the small office I saw Mr. Cooper standing behind a desk with his hand out to shake mine. I greeted him and we sat down. He took my resume when I offered it to him, but he set it aside on the table. Instead he opened a folder before him.

The position we have open is for a field agent, said Mr. Cooper. The job requires that you go out to an assigned territory, gather information, and then pass it on to those who can close the deal.

That sounds easy enough, I replied.

Well, it isn’t. Like any position at any other company, we offer full training and we support you one hundred percent. Maybe we should start at the beginning. Our organization is called The Dominion. Have you ever heard of us?

I had heard about The Dominion while serving with the 7th, but those were rumors about a highly secretive terrorist fighting organization that would do anything to protect their identity, even kill its own people. If that organization really did exist, there was no way that this was it.

Mr. Cooper, I have heard of an organization named The Dominion, but I’m sure you are the one I’ve been told about, I said.

I’m not sure what you have been told, but we are the organization you have heard of.

This was getting too weird for me. If Mr. Cooper was with The Dominion, then it could be that I was in a bit of danger. I had to make my exit. I stood up.

Mr. Cooper, thank you very much for your time. I’m not interested in your position.

I moved towards the door with all my senses in full alert. Still, I didn’t expect the surprise that awaited me when I opened the door to leave. Standing at the doorway was my old operational detachment commander.

Captain? What the hell are you doing here? I asked.

Soldier, please take a seat. Your interview is not over yet.

I wanted to leave, but I still had an incredible amount of trust and respect for my previous commander. He had never purposely put me in any danger and I knew that he wouldn’t start now. I turned around and took my seat in front of Mr. Cooper.

The captain came up to the desk, but didn’t sit down. Instead he saluted my interviewer.

At ease, captain. You have a message to deliver? said Mr. Cooper.

Yes, colonel, he replied.

You’re a colonel? I asked.

Yes, but you wouldn’t have come to the interview if I told you my rank. The captain has some information for you.

Sergeant, I got a call from the Secretary of Defense informing me that what the Colonel is about to tell you is highly classified. No matter what happens here, you are not to discuss this with anyone, ever.

The captain then, saluted the Colonel again and left the room.

Alright, Colonel, you got my attention. What do you want? I asked.

I want to offer you a job with The Dominion as a field agent. You have the qualifications we need, and we have what you want.

You have no idea what I want, Colonel. What can you offer me that I don’t already have?

Well let’s take a look at your file and see what it is you need. You told your academic advisor that you were interested in studying computers, didn’t you?

That’s confidential information, Colonel.

I know, but we have a way of getting whatever we want. Talking about wants, money doesn’t seem to be an issue for you. Your resume is piss poor though. You would think that after ten years in the Army they would have offered something better to put on your resume than ‘412 confirmed kills’.

Colonel, I must advise you that you are in dangerous territory with the information you are revealing.

Let me assure you sergeant, we haven’t even gotten to the dangerous part. You can spend the next six years in college and when you finally get your master’s degree, you can get a shit job somewhere, being ordered around by some punk 15 years your junior who doesn’t know half as much as you do. Or you could use what you already know and come work for us.

What my benefit of coming to work for you?

When you’re done with us, you’ll know enough about computers to go work at the NSA, CIA, or any other government organization you want. We will get you the job.

I already have the training to get a job with the CIA, I said.

You’re right, you do. But the CIA won’t accept you after they see your medical records. Specially the one were you went to a shrink to tell him you are not adjusting well to civilian life.

How the hell did you get that?

Like I said sergeant, we are privy to any information we want.

So I work for you and then afterwards you get me a job? I’m sorry Colonel, but that’s not enough for me.

We can help you adjust. We have done it countless times with the agents we have in the field already. On top of that, we will fill your resume with career experience that most companies would pay out their asses for. We also will reinvest your money at a guaranteed minimum of 17%. Plus we add any percentage of your pay that you want us to add to your total.

So you reinvest my money?

The Colonel handed me a piece of paper. I took it and looked at the chart. It didn’t make much sense to me.

"That chart shows you what happens if we reinvest half a million dollars at 17% for six years. If you don’t add any other monies to it, you end up with 1.283 million dollars. If you add one thousand dollars per month, you end up with a bit over 1.4 million. At $60,000 per year, you could live 23 plus years on that money. Of course that doesn’t take into account your retirement pay. Plus, because your identity is classified, you